by Kara Jaynes
Still watching me, she lifts her arms out, fingers extended. The other elves I can see mimic her movement.
Light streams from her fingers. Blinding light. I jerk away, colliding with another prisoner. We scuffle, and I shove him away. Eyes watering, I crawl back toward the cage’s entrance. The radiance is building, growing. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t dispel the light. The brilliance tears through my body, inside of me, and I cover my face with shaking hands, ignoring the groans and cries of pain from those around me.
The elves are going to blind us. I won’t be able to get the drug I so desperately need if I can’t see. That is their cure?
The hunger for the drug grows. I slump onto my side with a desperate moan, arching my back in agony as the hunger takes me.
No. Not hunger.
It’s a thirst.
A thirst I can’t even begin to slake. I’m convulsing, the air around me thick with hoarse screams. Maybe they’re mine. I can’t tell anymore. The light and thirst combined will kill me.
“Stop!” A cold voice cuts through my awareness. “Something is wrong with the spell.”
The world goes dark. I collapse with a groan, allowing my body to go limp. But the thirst is still there, and my throat aches with need. I need . . . I need . . . need.
Steps approach, and a key rattles in the lock. The cage door creaks.
My eyes open. But instead of looking at whoever opened the door, my gaze locks with the elven woman, still standing in the alcove.
I leap to my feet with a snarl. I don’t even look at the elf standing in the cage entrance. I shove him aside, only vaguely aware of the fact that the other dream vagrants are tearing him apart, and leap from the cage into the room. Freedom.
It’s bedlam behind me. The dream vagrants are screaming, shouting, as everyone scrambles from the cage, climbing the walls like spiders. I follow their example, my hands gripping the pitted stone as I scramble upward, my gaze locked on the elven woman.
She’s showing emotion now. Her eyes are wide with fear as she stumbles further back into the alcove. There’s a door there, and she fumbles with the knob.
Seeing her terror sends a shudder of pleasure through me, and my thirst builds to agonizing strength. I must slake it, but how?
I grab her by the wrist and pull her to me. She slaps my face. “Get away from me,” she snarls. “Filthy human.”
I smirk and hold her other wrist, too. The elf is not as strong as the rumors would have me believe. No stronger than any other woman.
“I’m not the one who’s been taking prisoners and conducting experiments,” I breathe, leaning my mouth close to her ear. I catch her scent. She smells irresistibly good, like copper and iron. I swallow, my mouth watering from the tantalizing smell. “Consider this payback.”
Part of my brain screams in horror at what I’m about to do, but I can’t control the instinct. This is stronger than any raw desire, lust, or need I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.
I yank her close, and sink my teeth into her neck, relishing the blood that fills my mouth. The woman shrieks and rips her arm free, scratching at my face.
Pinning her hands to her sides, I wrap my arms around her like iron bands and drink. I drink and drink, heedless of the shouts and flashes of light above and below. My memories come back into my mind with every swallow.
My name is Wilder.
I've been a prisoner here, a science experiment for the elves.
I was addicted to the star-blood. Once upon a time. Not anymore. The very idea of needing it makes me laugh, and I almost choke on the metallic, sticky blood.
I have found something more substantial, and much more delicious.
The elf female has gone limp, and with a final swallow, I realize there is nothing left to drink. I release her husk, her shell of a body, and it slumps to the ground. I stare at her as the implications of what I have done sink in.
I killed her.
I drank her blood.
And I savored every drop.
I'm gorged, my stomach full to bursting. I should feel disgust. I should be horrified by what I've just done.
I’m not. And despite my full belly, I want more. I feel that I could drink a river of blood and not be satisfied.
Grimacing, I rub at my nose. “It’s like I’m a vampire.” I'd read about them, in old books.
Am I a vampire?
The door set in the alcove bursts open, and an elf male stands in the doorway. I recognize him as the guard who’d led me out of my cell. His face blanches when he sees the woman.
His gaze settles on me, his eyes sparking with murder.
Time to go.
Leaping from the alcove, I land on the ground several dozen feet below. It was an instinctive move, and I'm surprised my legs are not broken.
I feel different now. I’m strong, alert, and as I sprint through the door and down the stairs, I find that I'm fast, as fast as the elves. Either I've become like them, or they've suddenly weakened.
I spy others running in all directions, dream vagrants who are no longer weak and addicted.
I laugh. Not addicted to drugs, anyway.
Coming across a large, glass window in an entry hall, I smash into it, hurtling through the blackness of night. I land on pavement and take off running.
It doesn’t take me long to recognize that I’m still in Liberty. I'm glad the elves haven't taken me to another planet.
I run and run until I am absolutely sure I am not being followed. It's raining, and I tilt my head back, laughing for the sheer enjoyment of feeling the cold droplets on my face. I am drunk on the euphoria of freedom. Even after a solid half hour of sprinting, I'm not tired.
I have my old life back. Only I'm stronger. Faster. I can do anything. I remember wanting to get a job down at the docks but not being strong enough to lift some of the crates that came off the boats.
My laughter dies away and is replaced with puzzled silence.
Why had I tried to get work on the docks?
Then I remember, and a hiss escapes me. Grief. Regret. Desire.
I’d tried to find work because I'd wanted to take care of her.
My name is Wilder, and I love a girl. I love her so much, simply thinking of her makes my chest ache with longing.
My little star.
My spark in the night.
Stella.
21
Eldaren
“My prince.”
I open my eyes. I can’t have slept for more than three hours, so my natural inclination is to be grumpy. I can’t show that, however, and reach for the small crystal comm at my bedside. “What is it, Gawynn?” Odd, that he should call me at this time of night. Strange that he would call me on the comm at all.
“My prince, there’s been a disruption in the compound.” Gawynn's voice is as calm as a gentle breeze wafting over ocean waves.
“What kind of disruption?”
“Vampires, my prince.”
“What?” I stare at the crystal; it's surface pulsing with silver light. Surely, I heard wrong. “Blood-sucking elves?”
“They appear to be of a human variety, but yes. They have escaped and are wreaking havoc on the city.”
Escaped? Something doesn’t add up, but there isn’t time for explanations. Holding back the string of curses that are begging to fly from me, I take a deep breath. Father would be calm in the face of such catastrophe, and so will I. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Understood, sir.”
Still holding the comm, I send the alarm that will alert the others of danger. I’m dressed and down on the exit level in thirty seconds flat. The fortress has become a roiling nest of activity as elves prepare for battle.
We will fight.
Elves are no strangers to vampires. We have them on our planet, or rather, we did, before Father ferreted them out and destroyed them. But where did these come from? I didn’t know human vampires existed, let alone on this planet.
I don’t b
other waiting for anyone else to get ready. I’m armed with a sword and pistol, and magic hums at my fingertips as I sprint through the exit and hurtle through the gates.
Running down the street, I’m joined by two of my men, Geldyn and Sol. Both are armed to the teeth, keeping pace as we run to the compound.
A shrill scream rips through the air off to our right, before suddenly being cut off. “Secure the area,” I say, “then meet me at the dungeon entrance. Kill any vampires on sight.”
Both nod curtly and lope down a side street to investigate the source of the cry.
I thunder up the steps and wrench open the door, accidentally pulling it right off its hinges. I let it fall with a grimace, and step inside.
Gawynn meets me there, his expression as serene as if we were sitting in a dull, routine meeting. “We have a situation on our hands,” he says calmly.
“You’ve already said as much,” I growl. “Where are the vampires? How did they come to be here, and why did they attack?”
“We attempted the Spell of Restoration on a group of dream vagrants,” Gawynn says.
I stare, astonished by his words. “That would have wiped their memories completely.”
“I fail to see the problem,” Gawynn replies. “It would not only have erased their memories of the star-blood, it would have also reset their bodies. I’m certain it would have healed them. I should have tried it sooner.”
“But something went wrong.”
Gawynn inclines his head slightly. “It would seem we have a traitor in our midst. The Spell of Restoration was twisted and redirected. The dream vagrants were turned.”
“Stars in the sky,” I breathe. I don’t even try to hide my shock. “They were turned with dark magic by an elf?”
“It would appear so, my prince.” Gawynn’s expression doesn’t change; his hands clasped behind his back. “We have yet to discover who was responsible. Apparently, the king wasn’t as thorough in wiping out the elven vampires as he thought.”
I exhale and spin around to face the entrance. “Have they all escaped?”
“Approximately fifty were turned. We killed those that weren’t able to flee in time, but there are still thirty unaccounted for.”
So many lives wasted in a terrible twist of fate. “No more testing or spell-casting on the vagrants without my express permission, Gawynn.”
“With all due respect, your father—”
“That’s an order,” I hiss, cutting him off.
There’s a slight hesitation. “As you command, my prince.”
At any other moment, I would have taken the time to remind him of my superiority, but Liberty isn’t safe. I need to protect the humans. There is no time for matters of pride.
I step outside and am met at the top of the steps by Sol and Geldyn; gore smeared all over their arms and blades. “You found a vampire.”
Sol nods, balancing on the balls of his feet. Eagerness lights his eyes. “We took care of him,” he says. “He was strong, however, much stronger than a normal human.”
“But weaker than one of us,” Geldyn says. He’s hiding his emotion more skillfully than Sol, but his nose wrinkles as he studies the blood on his arms. “However, if they’re anything like real vampires, they will grow in strength as they continue to feed. They must be hunted down and disposed of, immediately.”
“Agreed.” I stalk past them and down the steps, back onto the streets. “We have approximately twenty-nine vampires to hunt down before dawn.”
“Consider it done,” Sol says. “Permission to hunt alone?”
“Granted.”
Sol tears off at a dead run. To human eyes, he would look like a pale, insubstantial blur, but the vampires will see him coming.
All elves have reasons to hunt vampires, and Sol more than others. I do not fear for his safety.
“Go back to the base and gather fifty men,” I tell Geldyn. “We need to take care of this before it becomes an issue.” I don’t need to elaborate. He knows. If the vampires aren’t killed soon, we risk having them infecting other humans. Perhaps they already have.
Geldyn bows hastily and sets off, disappearing from view. He’s running, which means we’ll have elves on the scene within moments.
Stretching my senses, I detect a presence off to my left, something that isn’t quite human, not quite an elf.
Unsheathing my sword, I walk in its direction, body tense, ready to fight.
There. Crouching low on the ground is a woman. Her long, dark blonde hair hangs in her face; her emaciated form swallowed up in a tattered dress. She peers up at me through matted strands. “Hello,” she purrs. “You look good, elf. Real good.”
I read in a book that some human men struggle with the notion of killing a woman. If it had been an elf or human woman, I would have been inclined to agree.
But this is a vampire. Her life is worth nothing. If I hesitate now, it’s because this is the woman who I viewed in her cell not long ago, the one who reminded me of Stella.
This vampire has only one fate left to her.
“I’m so thirsty,” she whines. She eyes my sword, but she doesn’t run. “I need a drink. I need it.”
I lunge at her, my sword stabbing forward.
She leaps aside with astonishing speed, and darts forward. “I need it!” she screams, her voice filled with desperation. She drops to a crouch and scrabbles behind me to wrap thin arms around my waist. She’s similar in strength to a female elf, which is to say a good deal weaker than me, but she’s fast.
Fingers grip my throat from behind, and I know I have less than a second to respond.
Dropping my blade, I grab her head and flip her over my shoulder and down, smashing her body into the concrete sidewalk. Then I twist her head sharply and break her neck.
Bones snap, and she screams in pain, but already she’s healing. She’s adopted the quick healing properties of an elf.
Lunging forward, my hand plunges through her chest. Bone cracks and splinters as my fingers find, constrict and stop her heart.
It’s over. Her red eyes glaze, and her body goes limp. I wipe my hand on my trousers and look around, trying to locate more vampires.
The street is quiet.
Retrieving my weapon, I lope back toward the fortress when another shriek splits the air.
With a growl, I turn toward the noise.
It’s going to be a long night.
22
Wilder
I run until I near Stella’s home. Or rather, where I assume she still lives. Her place is located in a tangled, sprawling community of tents, wooden shacks and, for a lucky few, leaky shingle roofs.
It only takes me a moment to reach Stella’s place. I glance up at the sky. I still have a few hours before dawn. I don’t know what I have become, but instinct tells me I need to be somewhere dark and secluded before the sun rises. Plenty of time to talk to Stella and then find a place to hide. She’ll probably let me stay here, knowing her.
I knock on the door and wait.
The door is still closed, but I can hear a voice on the other side so clearly, it’s like there isn’t a physical barrier between us. Footsteps sound as someone draws closer.
“It’s about time,” the voice grumbles. “You’re in so much trouble right now.”
I wrinkle my nose and cock my head. Am I at the right house? Has Stella moved?
The door opens, and a slim young woman with dark skin and chocolate colored eyes stands in the entrance. Her hair is wild about her face in a cascade of black curls.
I smile. “Hello, Lyra.”
She’s Stella’s friend. And she smells amazing. How have I never noticed that before? I swallow hard. Control yourself. Stars, hold back, man. It won’t do to eat my girlfriend’s best friend.
Girlfriend isn't actually a strong enough term. Stella is my fiancé. I now remember the ring I’d given her, with the little glass diamond. Does she still wear it? I like to think she does.
Lyra stares up at me, goggle-e
yed and slack-jawed. “Wilder?” she says. “Wha—what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to talk to Stella,” I reply. I inhale deeply. I catch the scent of Quinn, Stella’s younger brother. I can faintly hear the slow rise and fall of his breath. He’s sleeping.
But Stella is gone. I can smell her, too, but her scent is faded, like she hasn't been here for some time. “How long has Stella been away?” I ask. “Is she all right?”
“I never said she was gone,” Lyra says slowly, her eyes narrowing, but her body is rigid, like she’s instinctively aware of the danger she’s in. She can’t know, not really. Vampires are a thing of myth. I'm just a lost boy.
What am I? Truly?
I smile blandly. “You don’t have to protect Stella from me, Lyra. I’m on her side.”
“You left her for the star-blood,” Lyra says, and derision creeps into her expression and tone.
I nod my head once. “A foolish mistake, I admit. But I am a changed man, Lyra.” You have no idea.
“Right.” Lyra smirks and fold her arms. “And I’m the elven prince.”
Anger skitters through me. “Why are you here, anyway?” I ask, gesturing to the interior behind her. “Stella should be home. She wouldn’t leave Quinn, not for long, anyway.”
“How would you know whether or not Quinn is here?” she asks belligerently.
“Enough,” I growl, and Lyra steps back. She’s afraid, but she doesn’t know why. I don’t know why. “If you can’t tell me where she is, then I’ll find her myself.” I turn to leave.
“Where have you been all these months?” she asks.
Now, we’re getting somewhere. “I just escaped prison,” I say. “I was a science experiment for the elves.”
“Stars have mercy!” Lyra yelped. “Did they cure you? Is that why you’re not a shuffling zombie?”
I half shrug and don’t answer, still watching Lyra intently.
She squirms under my gaze and suddenly blurts out, “I don’t know where Stella is. She’s been missing for days. Over a week, actually. She went trash picking, and never came home. I’ve been watching Quinn for her, but I can’t stay forever, Wilder.” She starts, like she’s surprised she said so much. “I’m worried the elves captured her.”
